Amari - Bearer of the Citrine Soul

"Have your little morsels not returned?" Asked the dangerously sweet voice of a predator, my eldest sister, Tourmaline.

I tried and failed to push away the instincts casting judgements on my fellow monster of the Pale Wood. She did not get under my skin at all. It was just a matter of my mental walls having collapsed and left me vulnerable to the intrusive instincts that kept me alive. For her part, sensing vulnerability always brought out a sweetness in my eldest sister's voice that terrified more often than it comforted.

I felt a pang of remorse for every instance my sisters and I had been regarded as insightful. We really had so much to unlearn.

"Not yet. But they will. I believe in them." Despite the content of my words, I remained uncertain. I was really quite inconsolable at this point. Fledgling friendships were precious and delicate things.

"For your sake I do hope you're right. I was so looking forward to you finally assembling a team to engage with the quaint little games of artistic expression the Orbital Hall hosts." Tourmaline's words teased a hopeful smile from my lips, but had I nothing to say. In her defense I could usually handle competitive banter with my sister. She was trying to cheer me up, in her own way.

My sisters held seniority over the newest arrivals to Orbital Hall by only a few weeks. The eldest of us, sanguine Tourmaline and the golden girl Marigold had gained recognition for their artistic merits. Of the five of us, I was not close enough to the other two to hear of their achievements, but I knew that I alone had yet to show the students and scholars of Orbital Hall what I could create.

I had found myself struggling in their absence to worry about even my most basic needs. What was the point of escaping a hostile environment if the world outside the wood was just as quick to snatch away those you cared for?

Would they come back? How would confronting an entity as terrible as a Stormfolk, a parent of theirs no less, change them? Was I likely to even recognize the shape that my friends returned to me in? Would what remained of them even recognize me? I could only muster a sigh. Tourmaline seemed content to share the silence.

Could they forgive me? The knife had not been my idea, but I had spent the night preparing to accept the consequences.

No Amari alive handled worry with grace. It came with the territory of glimpsing how Fate tugged upon each and every soul. To see what everyone was made of, but not the greater picture or tapestry around it made what we saw of others a frustrating curse more than a gift. Marigold would always cry her eyes out when faced with an unraveling soul. Tourmaline on the other hand was bloodthirsty and possessive by necessity. Things not grasped had a tendency to slip out of reach. As the eldest of us, hers was the heaviest of souls. Physical displays of affection did not come lightly from her, but seeing as Marigold wasn't around to crush the air from my delicate lungs in a not so delicate hug...

Tourmaline seized the opportunity to be the eldest sister.

Everyone was bound by at least a little fate, even indirectly. No one else saw the world quite like my sisters and I. But that was one of the beautiful things about Orbital Hall. It united so many from all corners of the world to study creation while imparting what it could to any with a desire to learn. My sisters and I hoped unlearn the lessons taught by our home. Where better to unlearn lessons of old than the place responsible for the death of Heroes and Nobility? There was a lofty history there, but again I found the thoughts lean on meaning.

Was this what it felt like to have every body you clung to fall apart?

A part of me wanted to cling to what I saw in them. Maybe I could guide them back to being everything they were fated to be. Would they want that of me? Would they be thankful? Or was I overstepping boundaries?

No.

I needed to fight those instincts.

They were in good hands already.

Everything would be fine.

"I think I'll be okay." I said.

"In that case I'll definitely go fetch Marigold," replied my sister, mercilessly.

Those who survived the Pale Wood left nothing to chance.

 

***

 

I sat atop a stone that gave me a wide view of the beach. At my feet sat three different bags carefully prepared to respond to what kind of state my friends returned in. One could hope against hope to not need them, but my sisters and I could glean entirely too much from a gaze into another soul.

Ruin was who I expected to return most whole and hearty. She had left more than a few broken homes and family behind. If there was anyone who could remain calm in the face of the odds they faced, it was her. I steeled myself for the stern reprimanding I would receive, but I would bear anything if it meant they returned whole and well.

She would never have agreed to giving up so precious a knife. Placing an extension of my soul in the hands of another was a reckless thing to do under the most ideal of circumstances.

 

A familiar voice pulled me from my worries.

"A brooding friend of ours told me I'd find you out here."  Marigold, who could do no wrong, needed no introduction.

"You would know me best, sister mine." 

"Ah. I see I have not yet been forgiven. Very well, allow me to share in your misery."

I gestured to the rock sickened by rain beside me. "You sure princess? Tourmaline I could see sharing the splash zone, but never you."

Marigold Amari folded up her personal floral patterned umbrella and joined me in my self-inflicted exposure to the raw elements. "You're just worried doing so will might make them one of us. Or worse, a tool to be wielded."

"No. I'm upset that we deceived them. This game of trading places and doing our best to prevent anyone from realizing it. I want it to end."

She pursed her lips before continuing. "Is this about me kissing Vessel in your room?"

I remained a statue, a prepared verbal parry long readied for that precise question. "You've looked into their eyes sister dearest. You weren't able to read anything were you?"

She smiled. Did she see through me or was the smile a deception of its own? "It was as you said. An endless storm of potential unbound by the storied life that formed them."

"Can you see now why I might not want to deceive or influence them? Those eyes scare me. I don't know how to act in front of them. I want to help but-" But what? I grasped at straws. I had been doing so for a while now. It is why I asked Marigold to take my place.

"And still you threw yourself between two volatile entities hiding behind the very real power of storms."

"I know. I don't have much of a leg to stand on. But why'd you give them the knife?"

Those golden eyes looked long and hard at me. She said nothing.

"Empty Night. It's what I would've done."

"Dearest Citrine, it's not me you're upset at. You are faced with the monumental task of forgiving yourself for a mistake you never had the opportunity to make." What could I even say? "Aaaaand you're upset I kissed Vessel on your behalf."

"I." Was more upset I didn't have an immediate answer to a second assault. The defeated sigh I unleashed upon the night would be savored by Marigold for weeks to come. "I don't know. Okay? But I'm comfortable not knowing. We rushed so quickly secure friends and favor, but this isn't the Pale Wood. Things are different here." It was at this point I realized I had stood up. Marigold was looking up at me, a satisfied smile spreading across her lips. I continued my impassioned outburst. "For everything we've survived, none of us wants to fight for our lives again. But that leaves me worried sick that the one individual I can't read like a book is out there alone facing something unimaginably strong with only a piece of my sister's soul as a weapon." Finished, I found myself slumping to the ground beside the rock.

Marigold took the opportunity to run a hand through my hair. "I am afraid Tourmaline did not communicate to me just how important this was to you."

"I'm still glad she sent you."

"You wanted to make the mistakes on your own. And knowing you like I do, like we do everyone else, I've robbed you of that."

"Basically? I guess? It might as well be right."

"So that's why you're out here. I got to make two mistakes on your behalf. And you worry now there might never be another opportunity."

"What did it feel like, if you don't mind me asking?" I dared not be more specific.

Unfortunately my sister was my sister and knew exactly what I had been referring to. She gracefully talked in circles around the answer to my question. "Nearly every instinct told me to show them a different way. Against my better judgement, I paid those instincts no mind. I knew neither you nor Vessel or Verity would. And, I will admit a part of me wanted to see where they could lead us if we only followed."

"You sound almost as smitten with them as I."

"They scare me Citrine, both of them do. And that makes you both fond of and protective of them. We might not like the final configuration they settle into. I fear it may go against the world as we understand it."

"Please don't tell me to abandon them."

"No my dear sister. That would be your mistake to make, and only if you chose to make it."

That pulled my lips into the form of a smile. It summoned forth tears too, but the rain covered them well.

A part in the clouds revealed a thin beam of pale moonlight that signaled my wait had reached its end.

"Empty Night, such hollow gestures will get you no favor from me." There would be time for cursing the stars later. Marigold and I rose to approach where a lone friend of ours had come ashore.

Whisper revealing her innermost self to bear the other three to shore was the most dreaded outcome I could envision where all my friends still came home. I would be thankful for that much and nothing more.

Behind those blood red eyes hid one who once held the ear to the Queen of her Hive. For Whisper to reach deep into her heart and crack the cocoon hiding her war form bode ill for how hard they were pressed to walk away from the encounter.

My heart sunk as three sacks of hastily stitched together clothes fell to the sand beside her. Each contained what she could carry of our mutual friends. It wasn't much, not in a storm and after what was likely a grueling encounter.

When she spoke, it was a quiet drone of a voice beyond the capacity to show an ounce of care beyond the choice of words themselves. "They will live. But I refuse be entrusted further with their care. You will do this? Or must I carry them further?"

I hurriedly nodded my assent and went to unpack the sack filled with medical supplies.

This earned me a curt nod from Whisper's lithe and spindly form. Black carapace shells covered only for vital areas. The rest of the emergency body had been dedicated to supporting six segmented limbs, each ending in long bladed points.  "Ruin is full of paralyzing venom. Be gentle with the other two." When they woke, they would be in pain.

"I understand. And Whisper? Thank you for bringing them all home."

She backed away on six sharp limbs and shook her head. "I can only provide the love and care of a soldier in this form. They deserve more than that." Whisper turned to leave, taking a roundabout route to get back to Orbital Hall. I let her go without comment.

She was likely hurting in her own way, but it was those who could not care for themselves that took priority.

Marigold awaited my instruction. The application of various herbs, extracts, and poisons remained more my domain than any of my sisters.

 

***

 

"Hey." A nearly breathless word.

So much time had passed. It would be dawn soon.

"Um. Amari?"

"I'm here."

"Can I, um, ask which one?"

I offered the most gentle of smiles. "I am the one who threw myself between you and your sister."

"Oh." Not the answer they were looking for. It hurt to see their shoulders hang a little, but I was prepared for this.

"I am also the Amari who was recently upset to learn that my sister spirited you away to my room, dressed you in my clothes, and kissed you on my behalf."

That got me a look. A mouth and lungs had been provided in the new body, but little else.

"It's alright. I'm here to help." I was aiming for levity, but it had been a strange few days.

They took a moment to take in their surroundings. We were alone in the room they had never gotten a chance to decorate. "The others?"

"You heard the screaming then. A Guardian attempted to put Verity into a temporary body so she could pick out materials for herself. That ended up being a mistake. She's okay now. Like Ruin, everyone is in good enough health to sleep in their own rooms now."

"What about Whisper? When I woke up she- um..."

I shook my head. "We don't know. She's in her room. But asked to be left alone. She has bounced backed from worse than tonight." I wanted to tell them not to worry. The truth of the matter was that I had no idea what had reduced the three of them to a pile of their most vital bodily components bundled up in tattered clothing. We could replace bodies, sure, but what did that do to someone?

"Okay." Despite everything, it looked like a weight had been lifted. They fell silent.

I waited a while before turning back to the book I had been using to pass the time. There was no rushing something like this. Whisper and the others would heal in time.

Traces of sunlight began to peek through a pair of blue curtains I had used in an attempt to liven the room up a bit. It had been a long night. After providing what stabilizing care I could and finding more specialized care Orbital Hall could offer, all I could do was wait. I rose to open the curtains and close the lid on a glow-stone lantern I had been using to read. With that small task finished, I returned to my seat at the bedside to find a pair of bright blue eyes looking up at me.

"Hey, Amari?"

"I'm still here."

"What do you think of the name Verse?"

It was a very sudden question. I knew Ruin had begun to address them by a nickname but had not read into it until now. What to say to that? No, it was best to not leave them waiting. "I think it's a very lovely sounding name." If their presentation was going to change, it was all I could think to be supportive.

"Okay."

A full turn passed in silence as I returned to reading my book. When I reached to flip the sand-filled glass that measured the passage of time, I found my friend had drifted off to sleep with a small smile on their lips. It took seeing that for the worries plaguing me finally fall away.

I had begun to curse my lack of foresight in not bringing more than a single book to read when a welcome voice interrupted my second read through.

"Hey, Amari?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it would bother you or anyone if I asked to be called Verse?"

"Not at all." This time we shared easy smiles. Verse seemed more awake now.

"Also, um. It's okay if the answer is no. I don't want to upset you, but do you think I could borrow another one of your robes?"

I practically beamed with relief before shaking my head. "I'm sorry if I made you think I was still upset Verse." I rose, pulling out a pile of robes I had brought with me and stored in Verse's closet. It had been intended as something of a get well soon present, but I had gotten nervous about the whole thing and hid them from view. "Did you have a color in mind?"

Verse's eye settled on the white one before wandering to a two toned blue robe. There was a barely contained excitement behind the tired voice that spoke up. "I would like to try something with color. Could you pass me the blue one?"

When I turned around, Verse had swung their legs from the bed and rose to their feet. They were scarcely more than a set of eyes and mouth worked into a clay shelled mannequin with two arms, legs, and very simple hands for eating. A bright blue glow to emanated from their chest that their eyes matched in intensity.

Verse wasted no time joining me by the mirror. Even without sand, Verse seemed to have no trouble operating the body through the use of strings worked through the limbs and joints. They slid into the blue robe with only a little assistance from me. Movements were slow and stiff, but they seemed so comfortable looking themselves over in the mirror. When Verse turned to look at me, there was another question in their eyes.

"Do you think I could pull off being a girl? I don't have Verity's sense of style or-"

"If you want to be a girl, then you can just be a girl. It's not that hard. I can help-"

Verse winced. She seemed almost taken aback by my answer. I started to apologize for saying something wrong before she nearly tackled me to the ground in an attempt to throw her arms around me. In her haste she underestimated the strength at which the strings could move her new body.

"Thank you Amari. For everything."

It felt so good to laugh. "You're most welcome Verse. Whatever feels right and keeps you from falling apart in my arms is something worth pursuing. I can't claim much wisdom for this kind of thing, but that much feels right to say."

"Okay. But Verse just feels right. And I- um..."

"Go on."

"I kinda like it when you say it."

"Well then. In that case it is oh so very nice to meet you Verse. I am Citrine Amari, youngest of my sisters. We don't reveal our names and souls lightly, but you've got a part of us inside you now."

Verse pulled away from the hug to glance down at the hollowed out space in her chest where an azure glass knife formed the core of her new body. When her eyes rose back to meet mine, I finally got a good look at her soul. The crackling lightning I had once saw in them was gone entirely. It had been replaced with bright lights amidst a blue sky that shimmered and sparkled even brighter than when we had first met.

Verse was different in that the story their soul told meant nothing to them. They were alive and finally free of what smothered them. Never before had I seen a soul darken and then heal to a stronger state in the span of days. Such healing typically required years of recovery and support to achieve. Everything I had been taught to told me that something unnatural had occurred.

But I was far past listening to that voice. If this was wrong than I would delight in making as many mistakes as it took to keep those eyes of Verse's shining brighter than the stars themselves.